Unfit to Love
by amanichan
Summary: Crack Comedy. Takaba Akihito wins a year supply of Pocky.
1. Chapter 1

_**Unfit to Love**_  
Author: Amaniblue  
Fandom: View Finder Crack Comedy  
Main Pairing: Asami x Takaba  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Unbetaed. The legal rights to these very fine characters belong to Yamane Ayano.

Summary: Takaba Akihito wins a year supply of Pocky…

AN: This idea just hit me and I couldn't stop. I hope my brand of humor will work here and I definitely hope I didn't offend anyone with this fic. x(--)x

At first, entering the contest had started out to be joke on Kou's and Takato's part when they challenge Akihito to enter the billboard advertisement contest for Glico Pocky. They had jokingly commented when the commercial for the contest appeared on the television one night that here was Akihito's golden opportunity to shine. It was his calling since he loves to eat Pocky so much.

Akihito had brushed off the joke easily enough, until that is they used the 'C' word on him. He had turned deadly silent then before his aura flared to life. Akihito immediately rose to his feet and raised a taut fist in front of them.

'I'll show you!' He had vowed then.

They thought he was joking in return; little did they know what they had started.

For two whole weeks, Akihito barricaded himself in his apartment drafting one idea after another. A small mound of paper wads had build around the waste basket by his desk in the beginning, and then grew to mountainous proportions that piled high from one end of the room to the other by the end of the two weeks. Yet, Akihito couldn't think of a single idea that was a 'sure win'.

It was a day before the deadline to post-date the entries was to be concluded that Akihito had finally decided to approach this contest with a different angle. Today was going to be his lucky break. Out of sure desperation, he picked up one of his beloved cameras for the first time in two weeks and exited his apartment. The door to his loft swung open as the hinges squeaked in opposition. Wads of paper escaped to freedom and rolled down the hallway.

Like a caveman stepping out and seeing sunlight for the first time since woken from hibernation, Akihito grunted and shielded his eyes from the bright spring morning sun. When his eyes finally adjusted, he set off on a sprint but only to trip over his own paper litter on the floor. With a loud smack, he landed with one knee on the floor and his face planted against the opposite railing.

Several minutes later, he set himself back to the upright position while glancing around suspiciously. Satisfied that no one had witnessed his embarrassing debut from his apartment room, Akihito took his time and checked his digital camera for any damages. Seeing that there was none, he took off again only to slow down to a crawl as he hobbled along. He was still determined to get that winning photo no matter the consequences.

It was five hours before midnight when the photographer returned home with a maniacal look upon his face. The glint within his eyes never dulled as he uploaded the pictures he's taken from his camera to his computer. He quickly scrolled down the hundred of files he had taken and picked out his favorite frame to Photoshop. Akihito set off to work.

With an hour left of the day, he submitted his entry on the Glico website and was confident that he was going to win.

A month later, his prize packages arrived by the truckload. Boxes upon boxes piled up to the ceiling in his living room from one end to the other, then well into his bedroom, bathroom and darkroom. Feeling tremendously accomplished, Akihito stood on his sofa (it was the only space open for him to stand really) and admiringly gazed at all the deliciously, lovely flavors he had won. He was debating between the strawberry and the chocolate flavors, but noticed the special green tea flavors and then the red bean and the taro and the…

Torn between all the variety, Akihito ran both hands through his hair (causing the light brown strands to stand out on end) before he decided logically that he needs to create a path to the bathroom since he'll need to use it eventually. So with that method decided, he began eating and eating and eating…

Two weeks later, Kou, Takato and the gang showed up at his doorstep to congratulate him when they saw the winning billboard with his name on it. They hadn't heard from their friend in over a week and were surprised that Akihito didn't call them up and tell them of his accomplishment. Kou had joked that Akihito was probably too busy enjoying his spoils to bother and they all laughed at the idea.

They were dumbstruck by what they saw when Akihito squeezed himself through a slither of an opening through the front door and greeted them in the hallway. The boy looked about the same though perhaps a bit fuller, but then he was dressed in brown sweats from head to toe. But what was so frightening about his appearance was the fact that Akihito's once glowing pale silky skin (even his lady friends were jealous of) was splotched with acne from the tip of his hairline down to his neck from what they can see and there were crumbs visibly dotting his sweats.

His group of friends cringed at the sight and took an involuntary step backwards together. Surprisingly, whether it was a unanimous thought on their part or not, none of them commented on the obvious changes.

"Congratulations Akihito! The countrywide campaign just posted yesterday. We all saw your name on the billboards, man! How come you didn't tell us dude!?" chided Kou as he playfully punched Akihito on the arm. Funny, he thought. His hand seem to be absorbed then bounce off of his friend. Shaking that odd thought out of the way, Kou smiled widely before continued, "So how many boxes did you eat already, Akihito?"

The group all laugh when he blushed or they thought Akihito did since his friend was already red to begin with.

The photographer laughed along with them and joked wryly, "Oh, only a few. Heh heh heh. Sorry I didn't tell you guys. I didn't know until one day the prize showed up. Heh hehe. There was so much, I couldn't even find my phone."

Even though the group laughed good-naturedly, some of their eyes met and another unanimous thought seem to be shared. There was certainly a ring of truth to Akihito's words. And then, to their horror, their friend asked the unthinkable.

"Do you guys want some? I have more than enough. Here, let me get you some."

Akihito disappeared behind the door and closed it. A minute later, he returned with a huge unopened brown cardboard box with the logo Glico written across.

"Here you go guys!"

Takato and the others gawked at the amount presented to them. Several thoughts flashed through their minds, if this was one box size, how much does Akihito really have? And how much had their friend eaten already to have looked like that? They shuddered at the thought.

Akihito misinterpreted their look of disbelief and warmly offered, "It's not enough, here I'll bring out another box."

He moved to enter his apartment once more but all of his friend's interjection stopped him, "No!"

They all laughed nervously at their outburst and Takato spoke up for the rest, "Ah, that's okay. We don't really care for Pocky that much. Right, guys?"

They nodded their heads enthusiastically and commented in the sidelines on how they dislike the product in varying degrees.

Then Kou continued where Takato left off, "Er, we ah… have to go. Well, um… see ya!"

They began to walk off in quick steps but Akihito saw that they had forgotten about the box and called for them, "Hey, don't forget this!"

Kou turned around, grinned awkwardly at Akihito before he grabbed the box in a hurry. He then nod goodbye to his friend, returned back to the group and left.

Confused by their abrupt and odd behavior as well as the lack of invite to where ever they were going to, the photographer shrugged at the encounter altogether and went back into his apartment. He glided his way through the pathway he had made and took his seat back in front of the television. With a vanilla Pocky in his mouth and a PlayStation remote in his hand, what more can he ask. Akihito thought of what Takato had said and scoffed derisively at the idea. How can anyone not like Pocky?

He met said person a week later.

Asami had seen the same billboards and decided it was about time to have another visit with his pet. He didn't really need a reason but thought it would be amusing to see how the photographer had indulged his love for the confection.

He arrived at the door with two of his closest bodyguards posted at each end of the hallway. With his habitual smirk, amused eyes, and hanging cigarette in place, Asami raised a hand and knocked on the door. The witty greeting he planned never delivered as his cigarette fell to the floor when his jaw dropped open and a twitch appeared on his right eye instantly.

The yakuza stared in horror at the sight before him. His svelte exotic wildcat had turned into a pudgy acne polluted house kitten. It was disgusting.

"A—sami! What are you doing here!?"

Akihito hid his surprise (and delight though he would never admit to it) and opted to glare at the man before him while he fumed his usual tirade, "Well, whatever it is you want, I'm not in the mood!"

Asami's other eye twitched upon hearing that. He emitted a low snarl of disgust and yelled for both of his bodyguard's attention.

Not knowing what was happening, they came running down the halls with their guns drawn at the ready. Despite their training though, both Blondie and Glasses looked stricken upon recognizing their boss' pet. They can see why their boss was upset.

"You and you," Asami pointed at the two with a growl before he commanded, "I don't care how you do it, just get him into shape! As for these—"

The yakuza turned around, pointed to the boxes behind Akihito's head and said with cold clarity, "I don't care if you burn it, bury it, or dump it in the ocean, just get it out of my sight!"

With that said, he turned around and walk away without addressing the photographer.

Akihito stood there dumbstruck before he was rudely tossed over the towering Blondie's shoulder and was carried down the hall, following after Asami. The brunette released a long slew of curses when he heard Glasses from behind them giving instructions on the cell phone.

"It's me, I got a job for you to dispose of…"


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Don't mind the numbers I tally up, they are just approximates, not meant to be a true indication of healthy measurements. Again, I hope I do not offend anyone and that my humor is not lost. x()x

Both Blondie and Glasses stood before their boss with blank faces that they've learned to school to perfection; inside though, their innards was knotted tightly with apprehension due to the information they had to report. Both would rather face other more deadlier and thrilling tasks, such as going undercover or taking a bullet for the boss; these they can handle with aplomb and satisfaction, but they just had to be assigned to this one.

Glasses chanced a sidelong glance, hoping that perhaps Blondie would get the hint and volunteer to start first for a change. No such luck. Per usual, the man was as stone-faced as a boulder and had even perfected the blank look to appear within the depths of his eyes. Glasses would bet, if he'd waved, blew or batted at the figure next to him, Blondie wouldn't even flinch or move a muscle. That fact annoyed the hell out of him. Sooner or later, he'll learn the trick and see how the other would fare being the bearer of bad tidings for once.

"Well?"

Oh right, the boss wanted a report. Damn, Glasses thought. He chanced a glance at the powerful silhouette of Asami Ryuichi peering out his office window of Club Sion. He was grateful that he didn't have his boss' piercing golden eyes trained on him while he does so. That at least was somewhat comforting.

Glasses suppress the urge to clear his throat. That would surely be a sign of weakness. That he cannot afford to show if he did not want the boss' displeasure to be turned on him instead. It was one of many things he had learned from the boss throughout his years of employment.

Glasses reached inside the inner breast pocket of his tailored black suit and extracted a small black notebook. He thumbed through the pages and began to read off the contents in an unaffected manner.

"The grand prize package includes a year supply of Glico Pocky which consists of two hundred boxes total. Our associate accounted approximately one hundred and twenty boxes left at Takaba-san's apartment and disposed of them without mishaps. He confirms that a box had been given away by Takaba-san to a group of his friends, while nine boxes total had been given to each of Takaba-san's neighbors located on the same apartment floor, forty-two boxes had been donated to St. Mary's orphanage and fifteen boxes was donated to the local elementary school. This means Takaba-san has consumed a total of thirteen boxes by himself in the course of three weeks."

Glasses pause in his delivery and waited for his cue to continue. Their boss abruptly pulled from the window and approached the mini-bar to the left of the large ornate desk. He poured himself the usual glass of bourbon from the crystal decanter and went back to looking out the window. When the boss took a satisfying gulp, the underling flipped to the next page on his notebook then resumed his report.

"Each box contains twenty flavored packages. Each flavored packages contains ten individually wrapped packages with ten sticks of Pocky each. Due to the assorted flavors, the calorie content varies. An average of the calories is determined to be approximately eighty calories total. Our calculation results the total amount consumed by Takaba-san was two hundred eight thousand calories, which is equivalent to sixty pounds of body fat."

Suddenly, the drink his boss was holding flew toward the two bodyguards. Luckily, they both dodged the unintended assault in perfect timing. The glass shattered upon impact against the door and the pieces fell to the floor.

"Go on," His boss grounded out.

For once, Glasses was glad that he had something to occupy his eyes and hands with instead of having to face his boss' glaring eyes as Blondie had to do so now. He quickly turns to the next page and continues.

"Comparing our initial caliper measurements with the body measurement that you've provided sir, Takaba-san has gained 5.4 cm on each arm, 5.6 cm on his chest, 4.1 cm on his back, 2.5 cm around his neck, 10.2 cm around his waist, 5.5 around the hip, 4.3 cm around each thigh, and 0.5 cm around each calf. Despite the amount of calories consumed, Takaba-san amazingly seems to have gained approximately twenty-five pounds. His total body fat measured from the body immersion tank came out to be twenty-six percent."

When no further outburst was committed within the brief pause, Glasses raised his eyes and chanced a glance at the boss. The man had silently moved to lounge on his leather seat and remain calmly attentive. Oddly, the degree of anger present was dimmer than expected. Inwardly, Glasses breathed a sigh of relief and resumed his accounting.

"The country's best dermatologist has proscribed Takaba-san Proactiv Solutions and has already begun the first of many microdermabrasion treatments. The doctor assures us that since Takaba-san does not have a history of acne, his complexion should clear up within a week or two with little amount of scarring. The doctor also humbly requests the cooperation of Takaba-san in his research due to, sir, your toting of 'returning Takaba-san back to his silky-smooth-skin-self'. The doctor is highly enthused by such a declaration."

Glasses stop his narrative to push up his frame and wait for the boss' answer now that the atmosphere within the office has returned to a normal business-conducting condition.

The boss steeples his hands together and smirks at the request. Glasses makes note of the affirmation and waits for a verbal confirmation.

"Tell the good doctor, he may upon the delivery of what he promises along with signing over seventy percent cut of the future profits from the results of the research to me."

"I'll have the contract drafted and on your desk by tomorrow morning, Asami-sama."

With that, Glasses jots down a few notes on the next page, then closes the book and place it back into his inner breast pocket. He then remains quiet and stands beside Blondie as they wait for their dismissal. Their boss gives his habitual nod and turns his attention to the files on his desk. They both hasten their steps to leave while appearing casual.

They were not fortunate enough to escape the boss' afterthought.

"Bring him to dinner at my place in three weeks."

"Very well, sir," replied both Blondie and Glasses as they open the door to the office, side-step the broken glasses, and walk stiffly outside.

Once the door was safely closed and they've walked out of hearing range, Blondie remarked listlessly, "You did not mention Takaba-san's reluctance to cooperate."

Glasses responded just as listlessly, "That is correct."

"Nor did you mention he was unconscious when he was dunk into the tank."

"Right."

"Nor did you mention the acne was all over his body."

"Right again."

"Three weeks then."

"Indeed."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Egad, it did take me longer to write than I thought it would. Sorry for the late update. After being stuck on some passages while doing my FO translations, I came up with this continuation idea for the fic. Hopefully, I've up the ante on the crackpot. (Although my definition of crack is more whack than crazy)

He was hurt all over. It wasn't an exaggeration. Pain was the first, immediate, and constant sensation Akihito felt when he first popped his eyes open in alarm. In fact, pain was what woke him from his unnatural slumber in the first place.

His body ached from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, especially his skin. It feels ten times worse than the sunburn he garnered two years ago on a weekend trip with his buddies at Ishikari-Hama Beach in Hokkaido. Although he had complained about the horrible pain then, it was nothing like what he was feeling now. The best description was as if someone had taken a knife and skinned the first layer off of his entire body.

_What the hell did they do to me!?_

_Ugh!_ Even his face hurt from just grimacing in a show of anger.

Akihito tried to raise his body to a sitting position despite the stinging pain he'd felt from that simple movement. As sweat dotted his brow, he finally managed to prop himself up and collapse against the plush pillows that was stacked up against the metal headboard. A wave of nausea hit him unexpectedly. Bile rose up his throat, threatening him to hurl when his frantic eyes caught sight of a maroon bowl on the nightstand beside his bed. Without hesitation, he grabbed the item immediately and chucked all the contents from his stomach into it.

After two dry heaves later, Akihito returned the bowl to the nightstand and collapse once again atop the pillows. With his eyes closed, he didn't even bother to wipe his mouth of the remaining residue as he deeply breathed in and out to clear his head. With the wave of nausea gone and the constant sting of pain on his skin ignored at the moment, Akihito reopened his eyes in a flash upon discovering another sort of pain. Although minor in comparison, it was a pain he was most familiar with.

His ass had been violated!

_Why that self-satisfying son-of-a-bitch!? While I'm unconscious no less! This is a new low even for… _

Akihito stopped at mid rant when he realized something slightly different from his previous encounters. Despite recognizing that something had been shoved up his ass, there was no stinging pain caused by the typical rough frictions around the surrounding area. In fact, he was most certain that he wasn't even swollen at all.

_Was the pervert trying out a new toy then? _

If so, he doesn't feel satiated at all which was quite out of the ordinary. Almost always, his run-in with Asami has him ended up being sexually assaulted in some form or another and thoroughly satiated afterwards. Despite how much Akihito hated the amount of guilt such honesty wrench from him to admit that, it was the truth. He quickly dodged any further thought to linger on that tangent.

_If not for perverted sex, then what could it be?_

His answer arrived in the form of a man who just at that moment waltzed into the room without even bothering to knock. The stranger was dressed in a simple white lab coat while underneath a white shirt and grey tie tucked neatly into grey slacks that was cinch together with a black leather belt with matching shiny black loafers. The man even has the stereotypical black square rim glasses and three-part hairstyle to complete the picture of a stuffy white collar professional.

Akihito immediately raised his head up and absently wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he followed the other's movements with wary eyes.

The newcomer wasted no time with introductions.

"I see you have awakened."

Even the man's soft spoken tone was as boring sounding as he looked. Akihito chose to maintain his wariness towards the man as the fellow grabbed a clipboard that apparently was hanging at the foot of his bed. The man flipped through a couple of the pages then returned the clipboard back to its proper place before he moved towards Akihito. The photographer immediately scooted away from him.

It seems the fellow didn't mind his behavior, in fact chose to ignore it entirely as he continue his motion to sit down beside him on the side of the bed. He then took out a stethoscope out from his lab coat pocket, placed the earpieces within his ear then propped the chestpiece against Akihito's chest, right above the heart. The man, who appeared to be a medical person of sorts, then moved the chestpiece over various places on Akihito's back. In one smooth movement, the medic returned the stethoscope back into his pocket and stood up.

Thinking the man was only here to take his vitals and leave, Akihito quickly reached out and grab the medic's forearm. The man sat back down, then turned to face him again, an arch brow raised in a silent question. It was the only facial expression the photographer had seen from the man so far. It was getting his creepy nerves on the edge.

Thus he quickly blurted out, "Where am I?"

A barely there squint appeared before the medic replied with that same monotone voice. "You are booked into the Kurama Tengu Onsen Spa Retreat, not to be confused by the popular tourist attraction— otherwise known as the Kurama Onsen Spa. Our facility is often mistaken for such a common place."

Akihito was surprised when it dawned on him where he was. "I'm in Kurama!? Like Kurama-yama, Kurama!? Near Kyoto!?"

Again with that same unaffected tone the other replied, "Yes, the one and the same."

And a litany of curses spilled forth upon hearing that confirmation, "Holy— shit— fuck— son-of-a— how the hell did I get here?"

"You arrived by helicopter."

In hearing that answer, it jog some of his memories. Akihito remembers faintly hearing swooshing sounds behind him when he was being lugged over Blondie's shoulder. The giant had thrown him over his shoulder yet again the moment the black sedan arrived at Club Sion. He also remembered how oppressive Blondie and Glasses had seemed too when they sat beside him, with the photographer pinched right in the middle of their large physiques. He couldn't have escaped even if he wanted to. He intended to give Asami an earful for dragging him into another one of the man's whims, but the crafty old yakuza was driven away in his own black stretch limo while Akihito was stuck with dumb and dumber.

_'Asami can't take my Pocky! I earned it fair and square! It's mine I tell you!' _

He remembered yelling that very clearly, but the duo refused to respond or relate any information whatsoever no matter how much Akihito rave his tantrum.

When the sedan finally arrived at the club, both goons had exited the vehicle with quick speed, despite their hulking size. That was when Blondie plucked him from his seat and threw him over the same shoulder as before. As Akihito had learned by now, it was useless to fight the giant. The photographer let the giant lugged him about, thinking that he'll finally get to rage at Asami within the man's office. That was not the case however.

Instead, Blondie had taken him through the stairs he had run to when he first met Asami. Akihito knew where that leads and was very confused by the change in the usual script. Letting his curiosity take the lead, the spunky photographer complied and allowed Blondie to carry him all the way to the roof.

Once there, Blondie deposited him down, turned him about and pushed him towards the red helicopter. Akihito had taken one look at that mechanical contraption and took several steps back. At that moment his thoughts turned fugitive. He wasn't about to be taken anywhere until he gets some answers. He was about to turn tail and run when a sharp pain shot up from his neck and darkness clouded over his senses.

That Blondie bastard must had judo chopped him. _That jerk! _

So next thing he knew, he had woken up here, in this bland-whitewashed-palate-of-a-color room. Akihito's brow stitched together and he voiced a flurry of questions, albeit in a rightfully allowed disgruntled manner. His voice rose hysterically with every punctuation mark. "Why the hell am I doin' here at this spa? Who the hell are you? Why the fuck do I hurt all over? Why is my ass sore? Wh— "

In response, the medic raised an open palm facing Akihito which caused the photographer to stop in mid rant. Satisfied with the results, although the medic hardly showed it, the man began to answer him matter-of-factly in the order presented. "You were checked in by Matsumoto-san and Tama-san, aka Glasses and Blondie respectively. Both are close associates of the conglomerate tycoon known as Asami Ryuichi. You may call me Nakamura-sensei. I will be overseeing your fitness regimen for the next three weeks. Your body has undergone several fitness tests and treatments while under the initial soporific given to you. Although it is not a common practice to do so, Glasses insists that we start immediately. As part of the regimen, every surface of your skin has undergone the initial microdermabrasion treatment. You have been proscribed Proactiv Solutions as a follow-up to the treatment. If the results prove effective, phase two of the treatment will not be necessary. The soreness from your rectum will disappear by the next day. Normally the colonic hydrotherapy procedure is not done to unconscious clients. Your nausea is common with the combination of the small traces of soporific still left in your system and the small dosage of Hydrocodone given after the treatments."

"…"

Whether the man was aware of Akihito's stupefied frame due to the information overload or he just chose to ignore it, Nakamura didn't comment any further. He reached into his other pocket, took out a clear plastic bottle and popped the cap open. The man poured out a pink capsule and placed it before Akihito's lips.

"Open."

Running on automatic, Akihito opened his mouth and the pill was placed on his tongue. The man pushed the brunette's jaw back up and brought a glass of water before his lips. Again, Akihito drank the liquid without thought. His eyes remain dazed as he swallowed the liquid and pill together.

"200 mg of Kaopectate should help alleviate the lingering nausea. However, do not be alarm if your stomach feels like it is doing somersaults. Your intestines may have traces of water and fecal matters left from the colonic. Normally while awake, we would have you squat over a commode. But in your case, a bedpan is located beneath the bed should you not be able to access the bathroom. If you need any assistance, please press the green button to your left of the bed and an orderly will be with you shortly. I will see you in 0600 hours sharp tomorrow. Be sure to dress appropriately for the outdoor elements. Have a nice day."

A five minutes delay later…

**"WHAT THE HELL!!!!"**


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Yes, I realize it has been more than two years since I updated this story. Sorry about that. But I'm back with a new chapter so forgive my oversight. Since then, both Blondie and Glasses have been given names by Yamane Ayano to be Suoh and Kirishima respectfully. Thus, I will be correcting the usage from now on. There will be a few more chapters before the story ends. This was meant to be a light adventure to get Takaba back to his sexy self. I hope my comedic writing bone is still in good shape. And yes I know the damn thing is short, but forgive me for the mere fact that I have resurrected this story from the brink of extinction. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer. Thank you for all the reviews. I am very grateful for all the kind reviews and encouragements to continue this fic. Your comments have allowed me to give birth to such a plot line.

* * *

"Thank you for joining me this morning, Takaba-san. I hope your morning fare of green lemonade is to your liking?" The doctor inquired as a smile was drawn on his face. The corner of the man's lips had risen about a centimeter. It was the only part that moved. The man's tone from yesterday remains the same, boring monosyllabic sound.

A vein was becoming quite visible on his forehead as Akihito remains rooted before the doctor, force to endure his presence. Not that he could go anywhere. The two strong hands on either side of his shoulder made sure of that. It wasn't likely that he'll escape. Not with _those_ two around.

_Come to think of it, what are they doing here anyways!?_ Akihito seethed.

He stole a glance behind either side of him via his peripheral vision and sagged in defeat. Those stoic stone faces were much too similar to their boss. He couldn't fathom anything from them. Not a damn clue why he was whisk away to this high class spa retreat. He wasn't fooled by the high class act one bit though. The place gave him the creeps, especially his medic slash warden slash trainer or whatever he was suppose to be.

Akihito raised a questioning brow as he looked the doctor up and down. He didn't know what the hell the man was wearing a black leotard for.

_Or for that matter, why am I wearing one too? _

It was not like he had a choice though. The damn tight outfit was the only thing in the closet. He had no choice. It was either this or the open back hospital gown he woke up in. And given the fact they hadn't provide underwear, there was no way in hell he was going to flash his butt for all and sundry to see. But the damn leotard wasn't by any means a better choice either. His ball sac was easily visible from the front and the damn thing was riding up his crack in the back. He felt so exposed.

He might as well be naked for how revealing the costume was. It made him especially conscientious too when he took a long look at himself in the mirror and didn't like what he saw. His skin was all red and splotchy from that treatment they gave him and he didn't realize he'd put on some weight. The extra pounds were making him bulging out at parts. It was unsightly.

_How the hell did I gain that much weight in the first place?_

Akihito didn't have much time to contemplate on this though when he was whisked out by his jailors. Since this morning, both Blondie and Glasses had woken him up and directed his movements. He had no choice. His escape was cut off before he even has enough time to recover and attempt it. Why the hell were they doing this in the first place? Was it because of their boss' orders? But why would Asami care even? Now that he had a chance to think about, Akihito finally remembered what the yakuza said. The man had just shown up like usual, got ticked off (which was rare in itself) and demanded his goons to get him into shape.

With that conclusion realized in such a short time span, Akihito was beyond piss and let it be known, a bit hurt by this as well. He'd just put on a few pounds, it's not like he was uber chubby he tried counseling him self. Besides, his acne wasn't that bad. He'd just had a very nasty breakout. Although, the photographer doesn't remember when was the last time that happened. His righteous anger soon gave way to an insecure pout. So what if Asami can't stand the sight of him being out of shape? He doesn't care what the guy thinks. Good riddance if the man stays away from him.

Thinking along this vein, Akihito thus decided to sabotage whatever Asami had set up for him just to spite the man. Thereby forgetting one little factoid, that it was his own health he will be sabotaging as well.

Resolute in his decision, Akihito set his game face on and folded his arms protectively across his chest, clearly making a statement of his refusal to comply with the doctor's pleasantries. He wasn't going to dance to Asami's tune anymore.

Nakamura-sensei must have notice the change in him instantly for that poor excuse of a smile dropped entirely and a gleam of light reflected from the doctor's glasses, giving the man a sinister look altogether. Silence stretch between them and a tumbleweed from some unknown void bounce through. The game was on.

A sweat drop formed on both Blondie and Glasses' temple as if they sense the sudden tension. They immediately release their hold on their bosses' lover and shuffle quickly out the room and stood guard outside the door. Akihito was in the doctor's hands now.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I'm horrible, I know. Thanks for all the reviews! It certainly encouraged me to write more madness.

A battle of wills was waged that day. No one knew who started the rumors but Glasses suspected with much chagrin on his part that the supposed confidential conversation he conducted with Blondie over the john of the men's room may have been the culprit. However, if one were to ask him directly for confirmation, a bullet with their name on it will be prepared for their answer.

Even so, the rumor spread throughout the clinic like wildfire. At first, most of the staffers and clients listen on with disbelief. Who would be stupid enough to check into an expensive spa clinic and refuse treatment? It was unheard of. The shear stupidity, not to mention waste of the expensive program was preposterous to comprehend. No one believed it much to Glasses relief. However, the moment was short lived. That same day, much to everyone's surprise and horror, a splotch ridden, pudgy looking teenager wearing an unflattering tight black leotard arrived at the lunch buffet table and left with two trays full of food. Despite the healthy choices offered, it was the fact that the boy went back for seconds, even thirds that horrified all those who were present. So it was no wonder, by nightfall the betting books was ten to one in favor of Akihito.

It was only the first day but the message the boy was sending out was quite clear. Glasses felt queasy watching his boss' lover ate the same amount or perhaps even more food at the dinner hour. He wasn't known to fidget and thither about uselessly. It was not in his nature, yet he found his nerves ticking away at his temple while his trigger finger itch to fire.

How the hell was he to present the boy to their boss looking like that he wondered? His mind was conjuring up all sorts of drastic alternative plans. Like plastic surgery for one. It'll be easy. He'll drug the boy and send him under the knife for liposuction and skin rejuvenation therapy. Or, he thought with much sadistic glee as madness clearly shone within the apple of his eyes, he'll whack the boy unconscious and send him to Africa where he'll learn to survive starvation. A little hardship will do the boy wonders, he thought. Asami-sama did give them carte-blanche by saying do whatever it takes to get the boy into shape. But then he wasn't sure letting the boy loose would be such a good idea. He'll have to monitor the boy closely for his boss had entrusted him with the task. He didn't care to get sun burnt however. Glasses will have to think of another plan.

It wasn't until he felt a large hand on his shoulder that he soon realized he'd actually let his guard down with all this plotting. Embarrassed by this discover, his cheeks tinge a very subtle shade of pink for the first time in years. And to his utter shock, his coworker, Suoh aka Blondie, actually crack a smile of amusement, albeit more so in the eyes that his stony face ever allowed. But it was indeed an expression.

After a full minute of staring and his jaw had failed to pick back up, Glasses for the second time that day watch in fascination as the amusement disappeared and a tick began to form beneath the other's right eye. If he was capable of fainting, Glasses knew he would be flat on the floor, drop dead unconscious by now. The world was ending, it had to be. In less than a day, Takaba Akihito had manage to unravel his well-trained unflappable nerves and send his partner in crime to showcase two extreme expressions. He now knew what the boy was capable of. Something had to be done. Someone had to save them all, his boss included, from this boy.

His trigger finger twitch with renewed interest and for a moment, a split second at best of lost sanity, Glasses had already reached for his gun nestled within a holster under his right armpit. It failed to meet the artificial light of the dining hall luckily for another hand intercepted his movements. Upon realizing his momentary lapse in judgment (*cough* in other words, a big fat mistake) Glasses flash a relieved smile at his coworker for the interference. Although it confused him somewhat since both Blondies' branch size arms were by his side still. Both men pondered this fact and their eyes soon turn to another set of amused, bespectacled ones. How the man sneak up behind them, they never knew.

Dr. Nakamura merely said, "Follow me," and left.

Both men turn to look at each other, then at the still gorging Akihito, and decided to follow the doctor's order.

* * *

The plan was simple. It only took the doctor a simple flowchart to showcase his idea to counteract Akihito's Self-Destruct Rehabilitation Plan.

Glasses loved the idea the 'good' doctor thought of. In fact, if he was into men like his boss, he would have thrown himself at the fellow and kissed him silly. However since he was not for a fact, gay in any sort of way or form, he settled for a broad, uncontrollable grin and bow low in respect instead. He didn't care whether his composure was compromised. Indeed, he vowed to support the plan a full hundred and twenty percent. So much so, he enthusiastically volunteered for the first task.

* * *

At the clear stroke of midnight, Blondie and Glasses entered Akihito's room and carted the sleeping boy up and out the door. Both men trek down the eerily quiet, dimly lit hallways toward the recreation rooms. A small room was already prepared for the occasion.

The room had no windows, only the soundproof, square cut glass on the door. Inside the white dominant walls, a chair was place strategically underneath a single lamp hanging from the ceiling at the center of the room.

Blondie carefully place the still sleeping Akihito down on the wood chair and straighten up. He gave Glasses a pointed look before he relented and took off his jacket and handed the black garment over. Another pointed look was thrown at him before he relented once again to remove the gun, albeit most reluctantly. Yet Blondie continue to stare at him expectantly. Glasses would have pouted in disappointment if he was capable of such an expression, but alas, thankfully he couldn't. A telltale sigh was release instead. He bent down and pulled up his left trouser pant leg up to retrieve the small derringer from its holster and hand that over as well. Seemingly satisfied with the arrangements, Blondie gave Glasses a nod to proceed before he exit the room and move to stand sentinel behind the closed door.

A gleam of malice flickered from wiry spectacles before Glasses moved to stand an arms reach from Akihito. He took a long look at the boy and methodically rolled up both his shirt sleeves. He was so going to enjoy this.


End file.
